Mental Exercise
by Spense
Summary: A short Scott story, following in the aftermath of 'Who's in Trouble Now'. It's not easy being the oldest. One-shot.


MENTAL EXERCISE

By Spense

I don't own Thunderbirds, no money made, etc.

A Scott story, set in the aftermath of 'Who's in Trouble Now'. Sometimes its hard being the oldest.

Scott Tracy's stomach turned at the sight of Alan's empty bed in the Tracy Island Infirmary. He closed his eyes, then opened them in hopes that he was imaging things and would find his brother where he was supposed to be – in bed, taking a nap. Nope. Empty. Covers tangled and thrown back, and no younger brother in sight.

"I'm going to kill him . . ." ran through his mind as he sped down the hall, nearly mowing down John in the process.

"Whoa! What's with you?" John said in surprise, steadying his older brother after their near collision.

"I'm going to kill him," Scott growled through gritted teeth. "Once I find him, that is. Just once, couldn't he do what he's told? Just once – stay put!"

"Who?" John asked, bewildered.

"Alan. Who else?" Scott glared.

"He's not in the infirmary?" John asked in surprise.

"What did I just say?" Scott glared at his brother.

John held up his hands in supplication. "Hey, don't take it out on me. Did you check the bathroom?"

"Yes, and no Alan." Scott was getting madder by the minute.

John looked at him strangely. "Don't you think maybe you're overacting? We live on an island. Where's he going to go?"

Scott took a deep breath and expelled it sharply. "Good point. Let's split up . . . "

"Ok . . .," John said, still looking at him quizzically.

TB TB TB TB TB

Scott finally located Alan, in, of all places, John's bedroom. He was planted firmly on the floor in front of the wall of bookcases, sitting cross-legged, his bathrobe spread out behind him like a cape. He had a book open on his lap, and what looked like a third of the contents of John's book collection out on the floor around him. He was firmly engrossed.

"What the . . . " Scott began, outrage beginning to simmer as he looked in the doorway.

Alan looked up, startled. "Oh, hi Scott," he said, looking puzzled at his brother's glowering face. Then comprehension dawned. "John said I could!" He defended himself quickly. "He told me I could come in and borrow his books any time!" He shrugged. "I couldn't sleep."

"Yes, I did," John said calmly, pushing his way past his irate brother and casually shoving him back out into the hallway. "So, did you find anything interesting?"

Alan's face lit up as he lifted the book from his lap and turned his attention to John. After successfully diverting his youngest brother's attention from his furious oldest brother, John gently closed the door, leaving Scott out in the hallway.

Scott bit down his anger and collapsed against the wall next to the doorframe, closing his eyes and listening to the muted voices within.

"It's not Alan's problem, son," a voice said, startling him.

Scott opened his eyes to the understanding gaze of his father. Anger kindled again.

"Of course it is! If he'd just do what he's told . . ." He broke off at his father's compassionate shake of his head.

"No. Of course he should have stayed in bed as he was told, but that's not it," Jeff continued. "That's not what you're angry at," he finished in an unconscious imitation of the Hood's comment to Alan on that eventful spring break.

Scott looked at his father quizzically. "It's not? Funny, it sure feels like it," he said with a bite to his words.

Jeff smiled at his oldest son, refusing to take offense. Putting an arm over his shoulder, he guided him away from the door. "Come with me."

"But," Scott gestured towards John's room. "Alan . . ."

"Is fine," his father said simply and steered Scott towards his study. Firmly closing the door behind them, he settled in his chair as asked, "Now, what's the problem?"

Scott still stood, looking puzzled at his father. "Alan . . ." but broke off as Jeff interrupted him.

"No. Try again."

Scott expelled a breath heavily and thought a moment. "I'm angry at him . . ."

"No." Jeff shook his head once more. "Think. You're just reacting."

Scott looked at his father for a moment, then started to pace, thinking hard. His dad was right. It wasn't anger. That was just a byproduct. It was something else. He was . . . He was – afraid. He stopped and examined that thought. That was it. He looked over in mystification at Jeff, who just smiled.

Scott continued chewing that thought over in his mind as he resumed pacing. That was it. But, of what? He drifted back over to a chair in front of Jeff and dropped into it, looking blankly at him for a moment. Then he had it.

"I'm afraid," he stated as he met Jeff's eyes.

Jeff nodded agreement. "Of what?"

Scott sighed and relaxed into his chair as all of the adrenaline drained out of his system. He closed his eyes and continued. "That Alan is going to be gone again. That we didn't make it in time. That he was hurt out on the streets. That he didn't pull through." He opened his eyes and looked at Jeff again.

"That's good as far as it goes. Go deeper."

Scott calmed further as the familiar exercise in logic that he and his father had practiced many times over the years worked it's usual magic. Breaking problems and emotions down into logical components had always helped Scott deal with issues. Jeff was the same way. This was a tool they had both used for years – using each other as a sounding board.

He thought a moment longer, now thinking logically rather than emotionally. Then he had it. He lifted his eyes and met his father's gaze and smiled. "I'm afraid that I can't protect him. That I can't keep him safe. That I can't keep any of them safe."

Jeff grinned his approval and leaned back, himself relaxing. "Bingo."

Scott rubbed the bridge of his nose as he said dryly, "I almost caused a major fight back there, didn't I?"

Jeff laughed. "Yes, you did. John diffused it rather well, don't you think?"

Scott shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe I just did that."

"Oh, I can. I understand perfectly. And what's more, so would any parent," Jeff finished with a laugh.

Scott looked at him with his jaw hanging.

"Thank about it, Scott," Jeff continued. "You've practically helped raise Alan. You're the oldest – all of the boys turn to you. It puts you in a very unique, and frankly, often awkward position. You're part brother, part parent. Then, you're also my field commander. Again, another command position. And you've done remarkably well balancing it all. But this last incident with Alan was enough to send anybody over the edge. For two months, we didn't ever know where he was! We didn't know if he was hurt . . ." Jeff broke off for a moment, and looked away.

Scott watched sympathetically. He could sure understand.

"Then he was so very ill." Jeff closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened his eyes again, composure regained, he smiled briefly at Scott and continued. "After all that worry, it's natural to react with anger. But you can't let it control you. Like you almost did today. You can't protect them all the time, Scott."

Scott listened with rapt attention. It wasn't often that his father spoke like this.

'It will eat you up alive. Think about all the rescue situations you're in. You have to trust your brothers' abilities. All of your brothers. And trust Alan. Apart from recent events, he's normally got a pretty good head on his shoulders."

Scott had to laugh at that.

Jeff grinned in response. "All of my sons have good common sense. So let it go." Jeff stood up, drawing his comments to a close.

Scott shook his head in amazement as he stood up as well. "How did you get to be so wise?"

"Five sons. I learned the hard way.

Scott laughed outright. It felt good. He realized that he hadn't felt so free in quite awhile.

"Okay?" Jeff asked.

"Yeah," Scott nodded, not even amazed anymore at his father's ability to read his mind.

"Good. Then lets go get some of those cookies Ohana was baking this morning before your brothers make them all disappear."

Scott said thoughtfully, "No, I should really go apologize to Alan."

"Why?" Jeff replied calmly, opening the door to his study. "He didn't realize anything was wrong. He probably thought you were angry because he was in Johns's room, and because he wasn't supposed to be out of bed, and frankly, he's right, he wasn't." Jeff shrugged. "John will handle that, and I'll have a word with him later as well."

Scott had to acknowledge his father's logic. "John," he sighed. "I owe him big time."

"John's a born peacemaker," Jeff laughed. "He's been mediating between all you boys since he learned to speak. He probably knew what was wrong before you did. I wouldn't worry about it."

"You're not going to let me worry about a thing, are you?" Scott grinned, letting his father steer him towards the kitchen.

"Nope. Let it go. Isn't that the point?"

And Scott, with a much lighter heart, let go of the load he hadn't even know he was carrying, and had to admit, that it was, indeed, the point.


End file.
